


Spread Your Legs

by maybeeatspaghetti



Series: Shameless Whizzvin Smut [21]
Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Whizzer Brown, Hate Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Smut, Top Marvin (Falsettos)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:28:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26985964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybeeatspaghetti/pseuds/maybeeatspaghetti
Summary: Whizzer doesn't make dinner. Marvin is furious. Whizzer refuses to take orders from anyone.
Relationships: Whizzer Brown/Marvin
Series: Shameless Whizzvin Smut [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1850437
Kudos: 32





	Spread Your Legs

Marvin came home in a mood, as usual. He barged through the door, slammed it shut, practically hurled his briefcase across the room, and snapped at Whizzer for not having dinner ready. Whizzer, who was _not_ going to be forced to be a housewife, snapped back that he could make his own fucking dinner. Marvin, who was angrily grabbing a glass out of a cabinet, froze, then set it down slowly, gently, on the counter, though his hand was shaking and a vein was bulging in his neck, which was flushed red—furious. He turned to face Whizzer, who was standing in the doorway, hip cocked defiantly, his eyes burning into Marvin’s, challenging. 

“What did you say?”

“You heard what I said,” Whizzer said, voice clipped. 

He turned and went into the living room and sat down on the couch and put his feet up. He refused to give into Marvin’s demands that he fulfill the role of the subservient, docile, housewife that Marvin wanted. He wasn’t a housewife. He wasn’t going to be talked down to, reduced, or humiliated by Marvin’s desperation to preserve some semblance of heteronormativity in a relationship that was as deviant as they come. It was 1979. Gay sex was illegal in New York City. Well, the laws included oral sex of any kind, which meant straight couples were sometimes arrested if they were caught having oral sex in cars, but it was a sodomy law aimed at the gay community through and through. There was no doubt about it. 

Whizzer had almost been caught once, several years ago, when he’d been so desperate that he’d followed a man into a public restroom to suck him off in broad daylight. He’d had to quickly pretend he was throwing up when someone banged on the door, ordering them to open up. He was already practically gagging anyway, so it wasn’t that hard to pretend. It had been thrilling, sure, to almost get caught, but the thought of being arrested wasn’t particularly appealing, so he’d avoided doing anything like that during the day again. When he was desperate for it, he had just gone home and worked it out himself until he met Marvin. 

Marvin was the only man that could keep up with him; other than Marvin’s money, that’s why he kept him around. Marvin was the first person Whizzer had ever met who could get it up to fuck four or more times a day. Their record was six, and Whizzer’s ass had hurt for a couple days afterwards, but it was worth it. Even if they’d had sex in the morning, Marvin could come home in the afternoon and throw him on the bed and Whizzer wouldn’t be complaining in the slightest. The lustful fog they’d been in for almost a year now was starting to taper off a bit, but at least four times a week was good enough for Whizzer.

Marvin stormed into the living room after him. “I pay for you to lounge around the apartment all day and you can’t find it in yourself to heat up a can of beans in the evening?”

“That’s right.”

Marvin kicked over a chair. It splintered. Whizzer watched impassively, knowing his calmness was no doubt infuriating Marvin further. He was playing with fire, and was prepared to get burned if he read the situation wrong. It was always playing with fire when it came to Marvin, but he could usually goad Marvin into a good, rough fuck when he was angry if he played his cards right. Angry Marvin turned him on like nothing else, and his palms were already starting to sweat at the prospect of getting fucked into tomorrow.

“Do you have any idea how _infuriating_ it is when I ask you to do _one thing_ for me and—”

“No,” Whizzer snapped, standing up suddenly. He towered above Marvin. “You don’t _ask_ me to do anything for you. You _tell_ me to do things. You _tell_ me to clean the kitchen. You _tell_ me to vacuum while you’re gone. You _tell_ me to make you dinner. And I don’t get _told_ what to do.”

Marvin shoved him backwards. Whizzer grabbed his arm as he stumbled back, yanking him after him. Whizzer flipped him around and pinned him against the wall.

“Don’t ever tell me what to do.”

Marvin was breathing heavily, but there was a dark glint in his eye. “Make me dinner.”

Whizzer reached out and gripped him through his jeans. Marvin’s breath hitched. Marvin issued another order and Whizzer squeezed. Marvin groaned. He shoved Whizzer off and pushed him into the kitchen. Whizzer was wearing loose shorts and when Marvin pushed him up against the counter, the edge digging into the small of his back, he shoved his hand up his shorts and fondled him roughly. Whizzer ground down on his hand, the sensation raw and erotic.

“Spread your legs,” Marvin ordered.

Whizzer immediately clapped his knees together as tightly as possible. As much as he wanted to, he wasn’t taking orders. He’d spread his legs when he wanted, not when Marvin told him to.

“You spread yours,” he retorted.

“I’m not spreading my legs for you,” Marvin growled, shoving a hand between Whizzer’s thighs and stroking upward. Whizzer threw his head back and let out a choked moan, but refused to spread his legs further apart.

“Why?” Whizzer gasped. “Why not, Marvin? Afraid you’ll be too feminine if you lie back and spread your legs for me?”

Marvin pulled at Whizzer’s shorts. The button popped off the front.

“I’m not a fucking woman,” Marvin spat.

“Well, neither am I,” Whizzer snapped. 

“Spread your fucking legs,” Marvin growled, shoving his hand between Whizzer’s legs in an effort to force his knees apart. Whizzer kept his knees clamped together. He’d love it if Marvin could muster up the strength to pull his legs apart, but he knew Marvin wasn’t strong enough. If Marvin were desperately horny, he could probably do it, but he wasn’t there yet. 

“I’ll spread my fucking legs when I fucking want to,” Whizzer snarled, wrenching Marvin’s hands off him. He gripped Marvin’s ass and pulled him forward roughly, squeezing and kneading and shoving a hand down the back of his jeans. They ground against each other for a while, Marvin scrabbling at Whizzer’s back and biting on his shoulder as his thrusts against him became more frantic. In return, Whizzer was clawing up Marvin’s ass; he wasn’t holding back like he usually did—he was digging his nails in and pulling and pinching, and he realized he hadn’t trimmed his nails in a while, so it was probably hurting more than usual, but Marvin wasn’t telling him to stop, so he just dug his nails in harder.

When Marvin bit the sensitive spot on his neck, Whizzer gasped and instinctually parted his legs just enough for Marvin, who had clearly planned for that to work, to take advantage and push his legs apart. Marvin had a solid grip on Whizzer’s shorts and yanked them down past his thighs easily. Whizzer wiggled until they’d fallen to the floor and he stepped out of them. Marvin flipped him around and pushed him back across the room and into the opposite wall. Whizzer was sure their next door neighbors, whom they shared that wall with, were acutely aware of what they were doing—now, and every time one of them was flung up against it, which was quite often, actually. They liked this wall. 

Whizzer was tempted to just give up and give in, but he decided to make Marvin work for it just a little longer. He ducked out from under Marvin and darted away. Marvin put up a good chase before tackling Whizzer to the floor and effectively pinning him down. Whizzer twisted around until he was facing Marvin, lying beneath him.

“Lift up,” he said.

Marvin scoffed. “Like hell I’m letting you get away again.”

“Lift up or I’ll knee you in the balls and it won’t be pretty.”

Marvin lifted his hips just enough for Whizzer to have enough space to drop his legs open. He tugged Marvin in closer, and Marvin slotted perfectly between his legs. He squeezed Marvin with his knees and leaned his head back on the floor. 

“You caught me. Now fuck me. I don’t wanna be able to think tomorrow.”

He lobbed a bottle of lube at Marvin’s head. He caught it just before it would have given him a black eye, opened it, and shoved two fingers into Whizzer without preamble. Whizzer cried out—not in pain, but in surprise that Marvin had gone straight for two. It wasn’t particularly satisfying, however, no matter how many fingers he used. Marvin had never been able to locate Whizzer’s prostate with only his fingers, but his cock… now, that was heavenly, almost, the way it was perfectly shaped to hit that spot dead on.

Marvin unbuttoned and unzipped his own jeans. He didn’t even bother taking them off. He pulled them down as far as he needed and pressed close to Whizzer. When he tried to push in, Whizzer wiggled his ass around to make it difficult for him—one final act of defiance before submitting completely. Marvin gripped his hips to keep him still and thrust in. It was exquisite, the way it felt to get fucked after an hour of fighting and teasing and being worked up into a frenzy. It was so great to just lie there and let Marvin do all the work while enjoying all the benefits. 

Whizzer thumbed at his nipples while Marvin fucked him; he was unbelievably sensitive there, and he could feel the sensations building, and eventually he was rubbing his nipples in time with Marvin’s thrusts to his prostate and it was all so much… too much… until it was just enough and he came, shuddering around Marvin, writhing beneath him, gasping and moaning and trying not to black out completely at how good it felt. When his brain cleared, Marvin was still thrusting, but more frantic and less coordinated. Whizzer dug his nails into Marvin’s ass, gave Marvin a good, sharp yank forward, and he groaned and came. 

Whizzer wrapped his arms around Marvin’s neck and pulled him down into a brief hug before pushing him off and retreating to the bathroom, where he cleaned up quickly. Marvin was still sitting on the floor when he reemerged; he’d pulled his pants back up and was running a hand through his hair, which was matted and stuck at odd angles. 

“I’m going to make food,” Whizzer said. “If you wash your hands, you can have some.”

Marvin looked up at him. “I thought you weren’t making dinner,” he said, the sharp edge to his voice returning.

“I’m hungry,” Whizzer said. 

Marvin clambered off the floor and swept past Whizzer into the kitchen. He washed his hands and turned around to face Whizzer, who had followed him.

“Kiss me,” Marvin said.

“No.”

Whizzer walked past him to the fridge and Marvin’s hand flashed out and gripped his wrist. Whizzer yanked his arm away.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? I’m cooking. Leave me alone unless you want to be useful.”

Marvin pushed past him and left the room, slamming the kitchen door on the way out, as well as every other door he went through as he made his way through the apartment to, presumably, the bedroom. Ever the immature man, Whizzer thought. Whenever Marvin didn’t fuck his way out of an argument, he slammed doors and stomped his feet and threw a fit that rivaled any four-year-old’s. Now, today, it seemed he was trying to do both. 

Fuck and fight, fight and fuck—that’s all it ever was with them. And tomorrow, Marvin would come home with roses and maybe even something expensive in a gift-wrapped box and Whizzer would accept it ungraciously and they’d fight and fuck over it and the cycle would start all over again, as it always did, as it always had, as it always would.

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all are welcome to come send me prompts or ideas for future stories you'd like to see...  
> maybeeatspaghetti.tumblr.com


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